


Starisi Drabbles

by ChameleonCircuit



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Admissions of Love, Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt and comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Individual warnings in chapter notes, M/M, canon typical mentions of death and violence, starisi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 18:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 16,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14194746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChameleonCircuit/pseuds/ChameleonCircuit
Summary: Just a collection of Starisi drabbles from my tumblr (sofuckingchuffed)





	1. “What do you want from me?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starisi prompt: “What do you want from me?”
> 
> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/172463930922/starisi-prompt-what-do-you-want-from-me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol

It had been a long day after a long, hard case, and Sonny wanted to disappear. It didn’t matter that they caught the bad guy, and it didn’t matter that he’d be, without a doubt, going away for life. They didn’t save a single child. He could still picture Hailee, the last victim, the girl Sonny was on the clock to save, lying in the bushes, her limbs sticking out at odd angles. **  
**

A small shudder ran through him, and he felt a hand settle on his shoulder. He looked up at Peter’s concerned face before looking away again, eyes drifting over to Fin and Amanda who were telling jokes to lighten the mood while slowly drinking themselves to oblivion.

 _Misery loves company_ , he thought to himself bitterly, staring down at his half-empty bottle.

“You did good, Sonny,” Peter said quietly, sitting down on the empty stool beside him.

Sonny just grunted in response. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to be having right now.

“I mean it,” Peter continued, despite how hard Sonny was trying to block him out. “This case wouldn’t be so solid if it weren’t for you and your keen eye.”

“You don’t have to flatter me,” he said quietly.

“I’m not,” Peter said with a laugh, tilting his head towards Sonny, probably in an attempt to actually get him to look his way. “I’m stating facts. You’re one of the easiest detectives I’ve ever worked with.”

Sonny snorted, taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t let the Lieu hear you say that.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Peter raise an eyebrow, but he didn’t comment further. After a beat of uncomfortable silence, Peter placed a hand on his arm awkwardly. Sonny could feel the uncertainty radiating off the ADA in waves.

“It wasn’t your fault she died. You know that, right?” He half-whispered, voice barely audible above the usual bar sounds around them. “I’m sure Olivia has already told you as such, but–”

Sonny cut him off by slamming his near-empty bottle onto the table. Fin and Amanda looked up briefly at his outburst, but he stood up, ignoring them, and headed for the door, pulling his coat on roughly as he went.

As he stepped out onto the street, he sucked in a deep breath of air, followed by another, then another, but it felt like the oxygen wouldn’t quite reach his lungs. His breath stuttered as he leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees for a moment before a hand came to rest on his back.

“Let me drive you home,” Peter said, leaning in towards his ear.

 **“What do you want from me?”** Sonny snapped, wheeling around to stare at Peter, heart pounding in his chest.

The soft look that had been on Peter’s face tightened with confusion as he raised both hands, taking half a step back from Sonny. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re always just there, checking in on me. Do you not trust me to do my job? Is that it? Because if that’s your issue, then–”

“Woah, Sonny,” Peter said, cutting him off as he stepped forward again, hands still raised, like he was approaching a frightened animal. “You’re an excellent detective. I care about you.”

“You…” Sonny paused, face going slack as he stared at Peter. Peter, whose eyes were wide and soft and full of concern as he stood in front of Sonny. Peter, who was always checking in on him, always reminding him he was human, always telling him it’s okay to feel. Peter… “What?”

“It’s okay to not be okay,” he said, voice almost a whisper as he took another step towards Sonny, hands slowly dropping to his sides again. “I just wanna make sure you’re okay enough that I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Why would you worry about me?” Sonny asked, voice thick as the pounding in his heart reached his ears.

“Because I care about you,” he repeated, moving into Sonny’s personal space.

Sonny breathed out shakily, eyes searching Peter’s face for something to betray his true intentions, but he couldn’t find any. He swallowed against the lump forming in his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Peter said with a small nod, a sad smile forming on his face. “But it would be understandable if you weren’t.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, voice sounding a little desperate even to his own ears.

“Okay,” Peter whispered again, reaching out to place a hand on Sonny’s shoulder.

Sonny felt himself lean into the touch, just a little, his eyes fluttering shut as he sucked in another sharp breath. Something inside him softened towards Peter, and as much as he hated it, it was such a relief as well.

“Sonny?” Peter asked gently, and he was so close now that Sonny could feel his breath on his cheek, warm against the harsh, cold air of winter.

“She died,” Sonny whispered, voice breaking. “They all died. What’s the point if you can’t save anyone?”

“It’s not--”

“I left homicide because you always come in too late, and I wanted to save people. I wanted…I wanted to…I…” he broke off, body shuddering with the effort it took not to cry.

His eyes fluttered open finally, lashes wet with tears, expecting to see pity or judgment on Peter’s face. Instead, all he saw was understanding and compassion, and his stomach twisted as his breath stuttered.

“Let me drive you home,” Peter said quietly, taking hold of Sonny’s arm.

Sonny nodded in response, swiping furiously at his eyes, allowing Peter to lead him around the block to his car. The touch on his arm was warm, and the sound of Peter’s voice was a soothing, welcome distraction as he talked the whole way home, filling Sonny’s head with pleasant nonsense to override the self-loathing.

When they reached Sonny’s apartment block, he had the strange urge to pull Peter in for a kiss. Instead, he muttered his thanks and entered the building, fighting the desire to look back and see if Peter was still there, watching through the glass.


	2. "You make me feel nostalgic for a place I've never been to, a time I've never known."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/172707757947/you-make-me-feel-nostalgic-for-a-place-ive-never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> light angst, mutual pining, alcohol consumption

Peter was never sure why he kept going back to Forlini’s, why he kept sitting in the same stool at the bar, or why Sonny would inevitably join him a short while later with some comment about the case, or his sisters, or even Barba, on occasion. But he always went back, and he always waited for Sonny Carisi to join him.

He revelled in the way Sonny’s hand brushed his shoulder on occasion as he spoke, or the way their knees bumped together when Sonny would swing around to face him front-on, or the way Sonny would lean in just a little closer after a few drinks, his breath tickling Peter’s skin as he looked into striking blue eyes, alight with laughter.

He wasn’t sure if his feelings for Sonny came from the fact that he simply gave him a chance when the others remained cool and professional, or if it was something a little more genuine, but regardless, the feelings were there. When a case went well, he wanted to tell Sonny first, before anyone else. When he was feeling lonely, it was Sonny’s arms he imagined wrapping around his middle, drawing him close. Slowly, everything that happened in his life, he wanted to share with the detective.

Peter had thought, once, that maybe Sonny felt the same. They’d left Forlini’s together, and Sonny had brushed Peters hand with his own, his pinky finger stretching out just a little, lingering against his before the hand withdrew completely. They’d hailed a cab, and Peter had suggested Sonny come back to his for another drink.

Sonny had hesitated for a moment before giving him a small, sad smile, and a shake of his head. “Maybe another time.”

So Peter had resigned himself to the fact that Sonny didn’t feel the same. That whatever energy thrummed between them was generated entirely from Peter’s unrequited feelings and Sonny’s general enthusiasm and charm.

Still, when Sonny slid onto that stool beside him, he felt his heart flutter with excitement, even while he continued adding notes to the margins of his files, not bothering to acknowledge the detective’s presence.

Not until he ordered a scotch, anyway, his voice tight.

Peter glanced at Sonny out of the corner of his eye, watching as he removed his coat and scarf, draping them over the back of the stool before taking his seat. He shot Peter a smile, and while it looked genuine, something still felt off.

“Thought this was more your style,” Peter said quietly, angling his beer towards Sonny before taking another sip.

“Felt like something different,” he replied with a shrug, nodding his thanks to the bartender as his drink was placed in front of him.

There was barely a beat between the glass being placed on the bar and Sonny’s fingers curling around it, knuckles white with is grip as he brought the drink to his mouth. Peter watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips before he took a large sip, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. It was a sight to behold, but the feeling that something was wrong stopped him from enjoying it.

“That one of ours?” Sonny asked, nodding towards Peter’s paperwork.

And so their conversation continued, as usual. They talked about work, and baseball, and Sonny’s family, and college memories, and whatever else happened to come up. It was light, and free, and comfortable as always, and yet there was still something hanging over them, something Peter couldn’t name.

The more Sonny drank, the more Peter felt like something was definitely wrong. The closer Sonny got to him, the warmer the detective’s breath felt against his cheek, the stronger the scent of scotch became, the more the knot in Peter’s stomach twisted. Hands brushed his shoulder, his cheek, his hand, his thigh, and he wanted to enjoy it, but the detective was beyond drunk, now.

Sonny gestured wildly mid-sentence, eyes lit up as always, and his body pitched forward, hands grasping at air as Peter grabbed hold of him, stopping him from falling off his stool.

“I think I should get you home,” he said quietly, tilting his head a little so he could catch Sonny’s eyes.

He looked sad as he nodded, but didn’t put up any protest as Peter helped him into his coat, holding onto his scarf as he led him outside and hailed a cab.

“You okay?” He asked softly once they were both seated in the back seat.

“It’s been a day,” Sonny said with a shrug, looking out the window, head resting against the glass.

“You know you can talk to me. About anything. Right?”

Sonny hesitated a moment before turning to look at Peter, a small but genuine smile on his face. “I know.”

When they pulled up outside Sonny’s apartment, Peter helped him out of the cab, holding tight as he practically sagged against him for the entire walk to the elevator. He manhandled the detective into his apartment, allowing Sonny to tug him in the direction of the bedroom.

“Don’t go,” Sonny whispered, fumbling with his belt.

Peter hesitated, standing by the end of the bed, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Just as he was about to turn toward the door, Sonny’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the wrist.

“Sonny–”

“Please. Just. Sit. For a moment.”

Peter breathed out heavily, his heart hammering wildly in his chest, but he didn’t move. Slowly, Sonny slipped his grip from Peter’s wrist to his hand, linking their fingers as he gave a small tug. So he relented. How could he not?

After what felt like an eternity of silence sitting in the dark holding hands, Sonny placed his head on Peter’s shoulder. “You make me feel nostalgic for a place I’ve never been to, a time I’ve never known.”

His voice sounded small and uncertain and just a little lost, and Peter gave his hand a squeeze. “You’re drunk.”

“And how sad is that,” Sonny said with a bitter laugh, “that I had to be drunk to talk to you without feeling terrified.”

Peter frowned, turning his head slightly, eyes meeting the top of Sonny’s head still resting on his shoulder. “You talk to me pretty much every day.”

“Nah, I mean, really talk,” he said quietly, pressing his forehead into Peter’s shoulder. “Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“Sonny–”

“No, I know I’ve overstepped a boundary,” he said, lifting his head, blinking slowly as he looked down. “Being drunk isn’t an excuse. ‘Cause I know you’re straight, so–”

“What?” Peter cut in, leaning away from Sonny to look at him a little better, his grip on his hand tightening.

“‘M sorry,” Sonny mumbled, attempting to pull his hand away, but Peter only held on tighter.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispered, reaching out with his spare hand to tilt Sonny’s head upward. “Not for that.”

Sonny’s gaze met his, eyes shining.

“I’m not straight,” Peter said with a small laugh, more a huff of breath than anything else. “And I like you, Sonny. Have pretty much from the moment I met you.”

Sonny stared at him for a second, blinking slowly, before pitching forward, lips crashing awkwardly against Peter’s.

“Hey, woah,” Peter mumbled against Sonny’s lips, pulling back a little, hand coming up to cup Sonny’s cheek. “How about we revisit this when you’re sober, huh?”

“Sorry,” Sonny whispered, closing his eyes.

“Don’t be,” he whispered back, pressing a small kiss to Sonny’s cheek.

Now Peter knew why he kept going back to Forlini’s, why he kept sitting in that stool, and why Sonny would inevitably join him later with a comment about something or other. They were both chasing the same courage that neither of them had, and no matter how awkwardly they’d reached this moment, they’d reached it nonetheless.


	3. “Sometimes you meet a person and you just click–you’re comfortable with them, like you’ve known them your whole life and you don’t have to pretend to be anyone or anything.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/173352887402/sometimes-you-meet-a-person-and-you-just

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> light angst, alcohol consumption

Sonny knew Peter would be beating himself up over the verdict, blaming himself for not being able to get justice for their victim. He always carried that around with him, no matter what, but he’d got too close to this one, made it too personal. He’d seen Peter’s face when the verdict came in, the way his jaw twitched with suppressed emotion as he gathered his papers, the way he avoided making eye contact as he left.

Sonny also knew he’d more than likely find Peter at Forlini’s, drinking something strong, poring over every detail as though it could change the outcome.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Sonny muttered to the bartender as he draped his jacket over the back of the stool.

He watched Peter swallow, the movement of his throat achingly mesmerizing. His jaw clenched before he turned to look at Sonny. The smile he offered was tight, but there, as always.

“You did good, Peter,” Sonny said quietly, leaning in just a little bit closer as he took hold of his drink. “You just had the wrong jury.”

Peter shook his head but didn’t say anything as he turned back to the papers in front of him, taking a sip of his drink.

“That,” Sonny said, gesturing to the paperwork, “won’t help.”

Peter took in a deep breath before releasing it slowly. “She deserved better,” he whispered.

Sonny could see the muscles in Peter’s face working, trying to hide whatever emotions he was feeling. He reached out, covering Peter’s hand with his own lightly. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it hadn’t been for Peter to turn his hand over and take hold of Sonny’s in a near-vice grip.

He scrubbed his spare hand over his face, and Sonny’s heart ached at the sight of unshed tears glistening in the dim light of the bar.

“You don’t have to be here,” Peter muttered, laughing dryly.

“I know,” Sonny said with a smile, giving Peter’s hand a small squeeze.

They were silent for a long time, long enough for them to both finish their drinks and have another wordlessly placed in front of them. Sonny didn’t let go of Peter’s hand, though, and Peter showed no indication he wanted to move.

“Sometimes you meet a person and you just click,” Peter said quietly, so quiet Sonny had to lean in to hear him better. “You’re comfortable with them, like you’ve known them your whole life and you don’t have to pretend to be anyone or anything.”

Peter turned his head finally and offered Sonny a small but genuine smile, eyes still unbearably sad. Sonny felt his stomach flip at the implication of Peters words.

“That’s how I feel with you,” Sonny whispered, causing Peter to laugh as he brushed at the corner of his eye.

“That’s how I feel with you, too.”

Sonny wasn’t sure who moved first, who closed the distance. He suspected it may have been both of them, buoyed by the spell their sudden honesty had cast over them. All he knew was that his lips slotted perfectly against Peter’s, a warmth filling his chest and spreading throughout his whole body.

He let go of Peter’s hand only so he could take hold of his face, sliding one hand into the back of his hair while the other hand cupped his cheek.

When they broke apart, Peter was smiling properly.

“Thank you,” Peter whispered, pressing another quick kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”


	4. "There's no need to hold onto something that never gave you anything."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/174595127802/starisi-theres-no-need-to-hold-onto-something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst, emotional hurt/comfort, post-barisi

Peter had heard whispers about Sonny’s relationship with Rafael Barba. Lawyers and cops alike loved to talk, to gossip about their own. But Peter had never asked, not knowing how to bring it up without it being awkward. Even after they started seeing each other he felt it wasn’t his place. Sonny would tell him when he was ready, if there was even anything to tell. **  
**

Still, it came as a surprise when Sonny blurted, out of the blue one night, “I saw Rafael today.”

“Barba?” Peter asked, turning his head a little to look at the top of Sonny’s head resting on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Sonny breathed out shakily, and Peter felt his stomach clench.

He paid close attention to the steady rise and fall of Sonny’s breathing, purposeful, measured. Sonny was upset. He felt stupid for not noticing sooner.

“And?” He prompted when it seemed as though Sonny wasn’t going to elaborate.

Sonny sighed, his whole body moving with the effort before he pressed his face into the fabric of Peter’s shirt. Instinctively, Peter’s hand came up to rub soothing circles into Sonny’s back.

“And, God, I feel so stupid. How am I still affected by him?” Sonny lifted his head, baby blues dull and sad as he met Peter’s eyes. “I know I shouldn’t talk about my ex with you, but–”

“You can talk about anything with me. Always. Any time,” Peter assured, pressing a soft kiss to Sonny’s forehead.

Sonny nodded, leaning back against Peter, eyes closed. “He wants to be friends.”

Peter huffed, wrapping his arm around Sonny a little tighter. “And you don’t?”

“I kinda do. I think. That’s the problem.”

Peter frowned, nudging Sonny so he was looking at him again. “You’re allowed to be friends with your ex. I have no right–”

“It’s not that,” Sonny cut him off with a sad smile. “We didn’t end well. I still…” Sonny trailed off with a sigh, picking idly at a loose thread on Peter’s shirt. “He’s the one who left. And I want to let go of him. Completely. I thought I had. You…You’re amazing. You’re so different to him in almost every way, and it…it helps. I thought I was over him. But…”

Sonny gave a small shrug, and Peter felt his stomach swoop. He couldn’t help the jealousy that clawed its way up his throat, but he swallowed against it, hard.

“Do you want to be with him?” Peter winced at how vulnerable he sounded.

Sonny shook his head violently. “No. God, no. We were awful for each other. All we did was take and take and take. It was draining. We loved each other so much, but that didn’t mean we were right for each other. When he left without saying anything, I thought that meant he’d realized he could do better.”

Peter watched as Sonny clenched his jaw, dropping his head, and he felt utterly useless. He wanted to say there’s no way anyone could do better, that Sonny was more deserving of love than most people he knew, but he knew that wouldn’t help.

“But you want to try being friends?” Peter prompted, reaching out to tangle their fingers together.

Sonny laughed, though it sounded suspiciously like a sob, too. “I’d rather just move on,” he said quietly, voice wavering a little. “But I feel like I owe it to him to do better than that.”

Peter cupped Sonny’s jaw, surprised to feel tears on his cheek. He tilted Sonny’s head upward again, heart twisting at the deep sadness on his partners face. “Why?”

Sonny swallowed, another tear slipping down his cheek as he turned his face into Peter’s palm a little. He could tell Sonny was trying to compose himself, trying to reign it in.

“Because,” Sonny started slowly, “despite everything, I know he loved me.”

Peter gave him a soft smile, but it felt wrong on his face. **“There’s no need to hold onto something that never gave you anything,”** he whispered, brushing his thumb across Sonny’s cheek.

Sonny let out a choked laugh as Peter drew him close, held him tight, a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere, he wasn’t walking out.


	5. "How could you just walk away?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/174595718692/starisi-how-could-you-just-walk-away
> 
> This one can be read as a direct sequel to the previous chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst, sonny mentioned but not actually in the fic

“You’re in my seat,” a familiar voice said from beside Peter, forcing him to look up from his paperwork. **  
**

He was met with deep green eyes, somehow sadder than the last time he’d seen them, all things considered. There was a smirk playing on Barba’s face, but it had an edge to it. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Comes with the job,” he joked, more of a bite to his voice than intended, though he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt deep in the pit of his stomach at the put-out look that flitted across the former ADA’s face.

He was surprised when Barba took the stool beside him and flagged down the bartender, ordering a scotch plus a refill of Peter’s drink. He raised an eyebrow in question, but Barba’s expression remained neutral as he turned, offering only his profile.

“I hear Detective Carisi comes with the job, too,” Barba said quietly once his drink was placed in front of him.

Peter felt anger ignite in his chest, coursing through his body, hot, powerful, all-consuming. He sat a little straighter, angling himself towards Barba, jaw clenched in an attempt to keep his expression unreadable. “Detective Carisi makes his own choices, I’m sure.”

Barba’s lips curled into a sneer, eyes darkening just a little, and Peter felt bitter satisfaction once again.

“He’s more suggestible than you might think.” Barba took a sip of his drink, and Peter felt his hand curl into a fist as his anger surged.

“I wouldn’t know,” he bit out, unable to keep the emotion from his voice. “I wouldn’t even entertain the idea of trying to control him.”

Barba barked out a laugh, placing his glass back down on the bar top, angling himself towards Peter a little more. “That’s what you think I did?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Mmm, no,” Barba hummed, smile turning smug. “But you didn’t need to.”

Peter took a deep breath in, then out, willing himself to relax. He threw back the rest of his drink, relishing in the way it burned on the way down, settling in his chest like acid, before he began gathering his papers.

Barba snorted beside him, taking another sip of his drink as he turned to face the bar again. Peter took another deep, measured breath as he stood up, sliding his papers into his bag before shrugging on his coat.

“He won’t stick around for long,” Barba said, not even bothering to turn to address Peter properly.

Peter huffed out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Perhaps not, but he won’t go back to you, either.”

“I love him, you know.” Barba’s voice was so quiet Peter barely heard the admission.

A fresh surge of anger flared inside him, but this time it felt different. This time he was feeling all of Sonny’s hurt, all his anguish, all the grief for a relationship lost. He leaned in, hand gripping Barba’s shoulder just a little bit tighter than necessary. **“How could you just walk away?”**

“What?” Barba asked, head snapping around.

Peter leaned back a little, putting some space between them. “If you loved him you wouldn’t have left without an explanation. You don’t…You just don’t do that to someone you love.”

“And I suppose you think you love him?” Barba asked, tone cruel, though Peter suspected it was to hide his own hurt.

“Yes.” The answer came easy, despite having not given it much serious thought.

“Good for you,” Rafael muttered, turning back to his drink.

Peter itched to say more, to defend Sonny, to hurt the man who hurt him so deeply. Instead, he took another deep breath and turned without another word.


	6. "You have a place in my heart no one else could ever have."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/175189756807/you-have-a-place-in-my-heart-no-one-else-could

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emotional hurt/comfort, fluff

Sonny cast his eyes out onto the balcony where Peter stood, leaning against the railing, framed by the light of the setting sun and all its pinks, reds and oranges. Even as just a silhouette, he looked perfect. **  
**

The entire week they had been on holiday things had been good. The best they ever had. Peter had seemed happy, relaxed in a way Sonny could have only ever hoped for when he’d booked their trip.

He’d been worried. They’d only been seeing each other a couple of months, and he knew it was early to go on a holiday together, knew it could be the thing that made them realize they weren’t compatible after all. But the thought of Peter laid out on the sand, properly smiling without a hint of exhaustion was too enticing to let a bunch of ‘what ifs’ hold him back.

And it had been exactly as he’d hoped. Until tonight.

Peter had been quiet over dinner, letting Sonny fill the silence like he often did back home. It was so familiar it had taken Sonny a while to notice. He hadn’t said a word the entire cab ride back to their villa, and the moment they’d walked through the door he’d headed for the balcony, a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there the entire week.

So Sonny had pottered around, giving Peter some time to think about whatever it was he needed to think about. But he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

He stepped out onto the balcony quietly, standing for a moment to admire their view of the ocean, the colors of the sunset dancing on the rippled water. On any other night, it would have been perfect.

Slowly, he wound his arms around Peter’s middle, pleased when Peter’s hands linked with his, dragging him closer. He pressed a kiss to the nape of Peter’s neck before propping his chin up on his shoulder.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked quietly after a small while.

Peter turned his head a little, offering a soft smile before looking back out across the water and the darkening sky. But he said nothing. They remained silent for long enough that Sonny figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him tonight, but eventually, Peter broke the silence.

“Why me?”

“What do you mean?”

Peter sighed, leaning back into Sonny just a little bit more, pulling his arms just a little tighter. “Why are you with me when you could be with literally anyone else?”

Sonny huffed out a laugh. “I’m the one punching above my weight here.”

“No,” Peter shook his head. “I don’t mean that. I just mean…after the way we were introduced, I never expected…” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I just never expected you to ever warm up to me, let alone this.”

“Do you wish things were different?”

“No. God, no, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said in a rush.

“Even better than professional baseball?” Sonny teased.

Peter snorted, turning his head to look at Sonny again. “Okay, second best thing.”

Sonny laughed before pressing a gentle kiss to Peter’s cheek. “What brought this on?”

“We go home tomorrow,” Peter said quietly, closing his eyes. “Back to New York, back to our demanding jobs, to broken people in a broken city and this has been perfect and I don’t want it to end.”

“Me neither,” Sonny whispered, straining his neck to press a quick kiss to the corner of Peter’s mouth.

“I’m scared you’ll realize I’m not as good as you think I am. You’ll see what everybody else see’s, and you–”

Sony cut him off with another quick kiss, turning Peter around in his arms for better access. “Look at me.”

After a beat, Peter’s eyes fluttered open. When he looked at Sonny, he smiled, almost like he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried, and Sonny’s heart fluttered at the sight.

“You have a place in my heart no one else could ever have,” he whispered, reaching up to cup Peter’s cheek. “You prosecuted my best friend and took his job, and I still love you. I think we’ll be fine.”

Peter laughed before pressing their lips together properly this time. As their kiss deepened and Peter melted into him, Sonny knew things would be okay. It was still a lot, losing his dad and his sister and relocating to a new city where people knew him, not as Peter Stone, but as Ben Stone’s Son. But he knew, with time, that grief and that loneliness would ease, and Sonny would be there the entire time, an unwavering presence.


	7. “You’re hiding under that blanket because you’re blushing?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/175364256212/and-this-one-with-starisi-youre-hiding-under

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff

The sense of dread settling low in the pit of his stomach and the heat rising up his neck, ready to showcase his shame, his fear, his insecurity, was so at odds with how elated he’d been feeling only seconds ago in a post-orgasm haze, that he felt a little as though he were having an out of body experience.

Sonny watched Peter’s expression shift, somewhat stunned, somewhat something else he was trying and mostly succeeding to hide, and he wanted to sink into the mattress and never resurface.

Instead, he settled for drawing the covers over his head as he felt the flush rise to his face, stomach churning. He’d always been told he moved to fast, loved too freely. He’d ruined plenty of relationships by saying those three little words too quickly. He couldn’t help it. It’s who he was. He was all or nothing, and his heart was so full of Peter there was no way to hide how he felt, no matter how hard he’d tried.

And he had tried. He’d tried so hard. What Sonny felt for Peter was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Every time he looked at the man he felt his heart swell and his stomach flutter.

Somehow, that only made it worse.

“Sonny,” Peter said softly, trying to pry the blankets from his vice grip.

“Don’t look at me,” Sonny muttered.

But Peter was stronger, and there was a sense of urgency in the way he tore the blanket from Sonny’s hands, pulling it down far enough to see Sonny’s face, more than likely bright red. Peter froze long enough for Sonny to pull the covers back up.

When Peter started laughing, he groaned, covering his own face with his cool hands, giving Peter the opportunity to pull the blanket back again.

“You’re hiding under that blanket because you’re blushing?” There was a sense of uncertainty to Peter’s voice, but Sonny couldn’t bring himself to look.

“Sonny, look at me.”

He shook his head, eyes screwed shut.

“Please,” Peter whispered, breath ghosting across Sonny’s cheek.

Slowly, Sonny uncovered his face. When he met Peter’s eyes they were soft, crinkled at the edges with his smile.

“I love you too,” Peter whispered before pressing his lips to the corner of Sonny’s mouth. “So you needn’t be embarrassed.”


	8. “Are you wearing my shirt?“

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/175366391762/30-are-you-wearing-my-shirtur-choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff, kind of

Sonny’s entire being felt heavy as he stood in the elevator in Peter’s apartment building. His lip was still throbbing from where it was cut open, and the bruises littering his torso seemed to make his entire body ache. He knew he should go home, should rest, but he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone. All he wanted was to see Peter, to tell him he loved him, to lay his heart on the line.

The thought had his heart pounding in his throat, stomach churning with nerves, but his mind was made up. Going undercover was never easy, but before he had no one waiting for him, no one who held his heart. Now, everything felt different, and he didn’t want to go another day without telling Peter exactly how he felt.

They’d danced around it for so long, taking it slow, fleeting touches, dinners, stolen kisses, all casual, all light, with the thought that they had all the time in the world.

But Sonny didn’t care anymore. The truth was, they had no idea how much time they would have, and Sonny wanted to spend it being honest.

It was the fear that Peter didn’t feel the same way, didn’t see this as something serious, didn’t see Sonny as someone worth keeping around for the long haul, that had his stomach in knots.

He winced at the sting in his knuckles when he knocked on the door, and took a deep, steadying breath.

The way Peter’s face lit up when he answered the door and saw Sonny on the other side made his heart flutter, even as it faltered, eyes roaming across Sonny’s face, taking in his battered appearance.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his eye caught the logo on Peter’s shirt, and he took a minute step back to take in Peter’s appearance properly. As his eyes raked over the tight shirt stretched over Peter’s muscles, clinging to his form, he felt his lips quirk up in a smile, tears stinging his eyes.

“What ha–” Peter started, but Sonny cut him off.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

Peter blinked for a moment before glancing down, a light blush dusting his cheeks. They were silent for a moment, but when Peter looked back up, his expression was serious, earnest, and so full of affection that it took Sonny’s breath away for a moment.

“I missed you,” Peter admitted, not breaking eye contact, almost as though he were daring Sonny to mock him for it.

“I love you,” Sonny whispered, reaching out to brush his knuckles across Peter’s cheek before setting his hand on his shoulder.

“I…You what?” Sonny felt his stomach swoop at the look of uncertainty on Peter’s face. But then he broke out in a grin, taking Sonny’s free hand gently in his. “I love you too.”

Sonny’s vision blurred over with tears as relief flooded him, and he reached out, wrapping his arms around Peter, not caring how much it hurt when Peter hugged him back just as fiercely.

“I didn’t wanna go another day without saying it,” he whispered, pressing his face into Peter’s neck.

“I’m glad you did.”


	9. "I saw that. You just checked me out."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/175400496182/starisi-96-i-saw-that-you-just-checked-me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alcohol consumption, implications of sex

Peter stepped into the club, face already flushed from the alcohol he’d consumed just to dredge up the courage to come here. The truth was, he was lonely, and he was tired of being lonely. He just didn’t know how to talk to men, how to meet them, how to flirt with them without the fear of coming on to someone straight, someone who would take it poorly, someone who would make a fuss.

So he’d got himself drunk and he’d dragged himself to a gay bar, completely alone. The moment he stepped inside he felt out of his depth, stomach swooping with nerves.

And then he saw him. Detective Carisi, in a tight henley and even tighter jeans, drink in his hand, face lit up with laughter as another man pulled him close, nuzzled his cheek, and whispered something in his ear.

He’d intended to move, to leave before Sonny saw him, but he was frozen in place, struck by how beautiful Sonny looked in that moment. He wasn’t blind, he’d noticed Sonny was attractive the moment he’d laid eyes on him. But this was something else. Here, he was in his element, stress-free and radiant.

It was as Sonny turned to respond to the other man that their eyes locked. Peter watched as Sonny froze entirely, eyes going wide, face going slack. It felt as though time stopped, too. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t move, despite how badly he wanted to get out, to get away from this situation that he could later blame as a trick of the light. If only he could get his limbs to move. 

The spell was broken by someone walking in front of him, blocking his view, and when he looked again, searched for Sonny, he couldn’t see him anymore.

It was the bar he headed for, instead of the door. He told himself he just needed a drink, but he knew deep down he wanted to see Sonny again, to make sure he hadn’t imagined it.

He glanced to the side after ordering his drink, playing with a stray coaster resting on the bench, and he saw Sonny again. He couldn’t help himself. With the unobstructed view, his eyes raked over Sonny’s form, taking in the perfect curve of his ass, the slight bump of his stomach, the bulge of muscles in his arms, all things he’d been aware of, but were highlighted beautifully by his dark casual clothing.

When he looked up again, Sonny was looking at him. He felt his face heat up instantly and snatched his drink as it was handed to him, downing most of it in one mouthful, relishing in the burn, the way it went straight to his head, causing his vision to swim for a moment.

“I saw that,” Sonny said from behind him, voice impossibly close. “You just checked me out.”

Peter choked, chest and throat burning almost as much as his face as he glanced behind him. Sonny was standing right there, so close Peter could feel the heat coming off his body, hovering in the space between them. He couldn’t deny it, there was no use, he knew he’d been obvious.

“You gonna by me a drink, then?” Sonny added with a smirk, leaning into Peter’s space even more. “Seems only fair.”

Peter swallowed hard, giving a small nod before flagging the bartender down. “What you drinking?”

“Something sweet,” Sonny practically purred in his ear. “Then what do you say we get outta here?”


	10. "This love terrifies me, and I’m absolutely in love with it. The colors are so much brighter, the heat is scorching, and your skin glistens in it.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/175403583907/this-love-terrifies-me-and-im-absolutely-in

It felt like their entire lives had been leading up to this moment. Somehow, sitting together on this beach after everything they’d been through felt right and yet wrong at the same time, inevitability fighting with logic inside Peter’s head.

Sonny reached out and took Peter’s hand in his own, the gritty sand sticking between their fingers as they linked, grinding, uncomfortable, but also perfect. He felt his heart thud a little louder, a little off-beat, as he grew hyper-aware of his own existence, of every point of contact to the world, to the beach,  _to Sonny_.

He felt each crash of the waves against the shore inside himself, nerves building up, reaching a crescendo before dying down to a calming swell of affection, of emotion he’d been holding onto for what felt like a lifetime but had, in reality, only been six months, if that.

“This love terrifies me.” Sonny’s voice was barely a whisper, something for the wind to carry away, but Peter heard it as though it were shouted, felt it reverberate inside his chest.

The silence after that seemed to stretch between them. He could feel the hesitation radiating from Sonny, but he didn’t dare look, afraid of what he might see in those crystal blue eyes, usually so full of kindness, of laughter, of light, of love, yet so dark and distant tonight.

“And I’m absolutely in love with it,” he continued, voice breathless. Peter felt his heart skip a beat before thundering on at a faster pace, a flicker of hope determined to reach his extremities at lightning speed. “The colors are so much brighter, the heat is scorching…”

Sonny trailed off, giving Peter’s hand a squeeze, and Peter could feel his gaze, begging him to turn, to look. He forced himself to turn, to tear his eyes from the swirling blue of the ocean darkened by nightfall, and when he locked eyes with Sonny, he was startled by how ocean-like they looked, swirling blue, made darker by the night. There was a light to them now, though, that had been missing when he’d picked Peter up and brought him here.

“..and your skin glistens in it,” he finished, reaching up to brush his knuckles across Peter’s cheek, trailing his thumb along the back of Peter’s jaw before pulling his hand away.

Peter grabbed it just in time, pressing it back to his cheek, relishing in the way Sonny’s fingers curled to cup his jaw, to draw him closer.

“Sonny–”

“Don’t speak,” he whispered, swiping his thumb across Peter’s lips. “It’s fine. I know there’s never been the right time, I know so much has happened and we’ve never really got to explore this. I don’t expect–”

Peter cut him off with a kiss, more needy than he intended, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. All he cared about was showing Sonny just how much he meant to him, to express everything he couldn’t ever seem to put into words into the action. When Sonny kissed back with fervor, pulled him in, as close as he could without sitting on top of each other, he knew he’d made the right call.

The rest could wait. He doubted he’d ever have the words, but he hoped his actions would be enough to push through the darkness, the confusion, the fear, the uncertainty, to show Sonny that finally,  _finally,_ he was ready.


	11. Fake dating + Character in peril

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it cheating if it's not entirely fleshed out?  
> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/177392377922/fake-dating-character-in-peril-and-starisi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light angst, emotional hurt/comfort

It had started as a way to get Sonny’s family and Peter’s friends off their backs. They had both been complaining about the constant set-ups and blind dates and came to the conclusion it would be easier for everyone if they just pretended to be in a relationship. They figured they were good enough friends to pull it off.

They’d put in the hours, disclosed at work, went to Carisi family dinners, functions, the works.

And then one day Peter gets a call from Liv explaining that Sonny’s in a hostage situation, that she wanted to let him know so he didn’t have to hear it from someone else, that Sonny’s fine and the situation is being handled.

Still, Peter asks for the address, and as he makes his way there, heart hammering in his chest, he tells himself he’d feel this kind of panic about any friend in trouble. Because it’s true, really.

It seems to take ages for the situation to resolve, and Peter can’t quite seem to get enough air into his lungs. And as the perp is walked out in handcuffs, with Sonny following close behind, Peter takes a shuddering breath in, ignoring Liv’s attempts to keep him in place as he surges forward, taking Sonny’s face in his hands.

“I’m okay,” Sonny assures with a shaky smile. And Peter just pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, face buried in Sonny’s neck, his head spinning with relief.

”I’m okay,” Sonny repeats, winding his arms around Peter, firm, warm, solid, alive.

“I could have lost you,” Peter murmurs, voice muffled by the fabric of Sonny’s shirt.

And in that moment, Peter has to admit to himself that maybe this is more than that, now. Maybe this actually means something. And judging from the way Sonny’s gripping him back, from the way he presses a soft kiss into Peter’s hair, Sonny feels the same way.


	12. Hair brushing + Arranged Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/177377496477/hair-brushing-arranged-marriage-starisi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst, emotional hurt/comfort

Sonny had hoped he’d be able to get away with choosing his own spouse. He'd hoped he’d be able to flirt, get to know someone, ask them out, court them in the usual fashion, fall in love, propose in the park, choose his own wedding date.

Instead, his fiance, soon to be husband, was chosen for him. Peter Stone was supposedly the ‘perfect catch.’ He was ambitious and driven and would go far in life. But he was also kind and compassionate with a big heart. Or so he’d been told. Sonny was yet to meet him.

When he set eyes on Peter as Peter made his way down the aisle, petals thrown in his wake, Sonny hated him.

As they said their vows, Sonny hated him.

As they exchanged rings, Sonny hated him.

And despite the flicker of heat deep in his stomach when they kissed, Sonny still hated him.

He got so drunk at his own reception that he couldn’t remember much beyond their awkward first dance, where Peter had tried to make small talk and Sonny had denied him.

And his first thought as the light shone through the window, causing his head to pound and his stomach to churn was that he hated Peter Stone.

He barely made it to the bathroom before emptying the contents of his stomach, retching long after there was anything left to come up. And just as he was about to drift off to sleep propped up against the toilet seat, a cool washcloth was pressed to his forehead as gentle hands ran through his hair and down his back.

“Let’s get these clothes off,” Peter whispered, and Sonny didn’t have it in him to protest as Peter undressed him and helped him into the shower.

He didn’t have it in him to protest as Peter massaged shampoo gently into his hair, letting the soap run across the rest of his body.

He didn’t have it in him to protest as Peter dried him and helped him into blessedly comfortable clothes.

By the time Peter had sat him down on their plush new bed, combing his hair gently, Sonny couldn’t deny the fondness that had begun to bloom inside his chest.

The action was unnecessary, but Sonny didn’t complain as Peter combed and dried his hair, fingers delicate and gentle and soothing.

“You don’t have to love me,” Peter said quietly when he was done, and Sonny turned to face him.

He placed his hand over Peter’s heart, offering a tired smile. “We have time.”

Peter practically beamed at him, and it was enough for now. He crawled back under the covers, motioning for Peter to join him.

As he drifted off to sleep, Peter’s fingers threading through his hair, he found he didn’t hate him after all.


	13. Unexpected virgin + Intimate Artistry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/177410599062/unexpected-virgin-intimate-artistry-starisi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff, sexual content

Sonny had taken up art as a way to unwind, an outlet after a stressful day. It had been his therapist's suggestion, but he found that, not only did he enjoy it, he was rather good at it, too.

He preferred the mess of charcoals above all else. He loved the way he could make the jagged lines look good with ease, the carefree nature, the mess it left on his fingers, proof of his work.

But mostly, he loved the way Peter looked drawn in charcoals, all sharp angles and soft eyes. He drew Peter more than anyone else, with pens, pencils, charcoals and paints — whatever he could get his hands on.

What he hadn’t banked on was Peter coming to his apartment late one night to pick up some paperwork and spying one of his many rough sketches that had slipped from the table and fluttered to the floor.

“Is that how you see me?” Peter asked, voice deeper than usual.

All Sonny could do was nod in confirmation as his face grew hot. No one was supposed to see those. No one was supposed to know, least of all Peter.

Peter studied the sketch for a moment before placing it down on the table.

“Is it conceited if I say you make me look good?” Peter asked, laughter in his voice as he moved closer.

Sonny couldn’t meet Peter’s eyes, so instead he focussed on a spot just above his shoulder and whispered, “I think you’re beautiful.”

Peter stopped in front of him, hesitating before cupping Sonny’s chin, tilting it upwards, forcing eye contact. “I think you’re beautiful, too.”

Peter’s eyes had darkened, and Sonny tracked the movement of his tongue as it darted out to wet his lips. He swallowed hard.

“Can I kiss you?” Peter whispered, thumb brushing Sonny’s lips, and Sonny nodded.

As their lips touched, Sonny felt a fire ignite in his belly, and he pulled Peter flush against him, threading one hand into Peter’s hair while the other grabbed hold of his ass.

Sonny led them, lips attached, towards the bedroom, not even realizing he had done so until they got there.

It wasn’t until Peter had Sonny’s trousers around his ankles, palming him through his underwear, that panic set in. And Peter must have noticed, ever-perceptive, because he stopped almost instantly, taking a step back to look at Sonny. “Are you okay?”

Sonny swallowed hard and nodded, running a shaky hand through his hair.

Peter’s face softened with concern. “Given our line of work, I think you know I need more than that.”

Sonny breathed out a shaky sigh and sat down on the bed, looking down at his own feet, embarrassment causing his stomach to churn. “I’ve never done…” he gestured between them loosely, “this, before.”

“And we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

Sonny shook his head. “I want to. I do. I just…I…I don’t…I don’t even have supplies. I never…I’ve never…I—“

Peter cut Sonny off with a shushing noise, crouching down in front of him to force eye contact once more.

“You’re telling me you’re…a virgin?” Sonny nodded, closing his eyes. “Look at me.”

After a small moment and a deep breath, Sonny looked at Peter again. He was expecting ridicule. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met another person his age who was a virgin. It wasn’t considered normal. But Peter just looked soft, and patient, and still a little bit concerned.

“That’s fine,” Peter said quietly, brushing his knuckles across Sonny’s cheek before cupping the back of his head, pressing their foreheads together. “We move at your pace, okay?”

Sonny nodded again, and when their lips met once more, Sonny felt a fresh surge of confidence, an excitement to replace the nerves.


	14. ‘Didn’t know they were dating’ and ‘Single parent AU’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/177606544257/didnt-know-they-were-dating-and-single-parent
> 
> Small disclaimer: I stole the idea of single father Peter and son Jamie from keraunoscopia and mrbarbacarisi because all I could think of with this prompt was their beautiful headcanons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff

“Are you free at the moment?” Peter blurted out in lieu of a greeting the second Sonny answered the phone.

Sonny breathed out a small sigh, glancing at Amanda in the passenger seat, watching him intently. “Yeah, but—“

“I need you to pick Jamie up from school. Please. You know I wouldn’t normally ask, I know he’s not your kid, but he—“

“Woah, Pete,” Sonny soothed, trying to push past the heat rising up his neck under Amanda’s relentless gaze. “Calm down. I can pick him up, no problem.”

Sonny could picture Peter on the other end deflating with relief, tired smile on his face as he breathed out. “Thank you. Thank you. He’s been sick at school, but I should be free in about an hour to take hm off your hands.”

“It’s no trouble,” Sonny said softly, then, before he could think twice about it, added, “I love you. Both of you.”

“I love you too.” They let the words sit in the silence between them for a moment before the line went dead.

Sonny sucked in a sharp breath before turning to look at Amanda, who looked absolutely gleeful and ready to prod. “Do you mind?”

She shook her head, waiting for Sonny to re-route the GPS before saying, “So, you and Stone, eh?”

Sonny gave a noncommittal hum, fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

“How long?”

He heaved a sigh, keeping his eyes fixed forward. “A few months.”

“A few months and you’re already exchanging ‘I love you’s?” Her tone was teasing, but Sonny knew there was an underlying concern there, too.

“I love him,” he said with a shrug. “When you know, you know. Y’know?”

Amanda snorted. “If you say so.” She waited a beat before adding, “You realize what could happen if you get caught?”

“We’ve disclosed.”

“Not to me you haven’t.” She sounded hurt then, and her tone forced Sonny to finally look at her.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “It’s just…complicated. Neither of us are out.” Amanda opened her mouth to protest, but Sonny spoke over her. “I know you know. About me. Not about Peter. It’s not my job to out someone else just because I’m in a relationship with them.”

Amanda was quiet for the rest of the ride, not even commenting when Jamie clung to Sonny so hard he had to give in and hand Amanda the keys so he could sit in the back seat with Jamie in his lap.

As Sonny got out of the car, Amanda got out too, expression pinched as she placed a hand on his arm. “You sure you’re okay being someone’s dirty little secret?”

Sonny huffed out a small laugh, shifting Jamie in his arms so he could reach for his keys. “We’re happy. And when he’s ready, I’ll hold his hand in public. Until then, please don’t tell anyone.”


	15. "Why do you run away from your problems all the time?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178028930557/starisi-44-why-do-you-run-away-from-your

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst

Peter felt a sense of calm wash over him for the first time in months as he shoved clothes into a bag. He was so lost in his own actions that he didn’t realize he wasn’t alone until Sonny spoke.

“What are you doing?”

His voice was calm, unbearably so, and Peter felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He could picture Sonny leaning against the doorframe, arms across his chest, eyes tired but calm, patient, always patient.

“Packing,” he muttered without turning.

“Why?” He could hear the almost-sigh in Sonny’s voice, and it caused him to heave one of his own. Still, he wouldn’t turn around.

After a moment of silence Peter heard Sonny’s light footfalls as he made his way across the bedroom. His skin crawled at the distance between them, like he could feel Sonny’s urge to reach out and touch him.

“Why do you run away from your problems all the time?”

“Excuse me?” Peter asked, whipping around before he could think better of it.

Sonny raised his hands in defense, taking a minute step back. There was a sadness in his eyes that made Peter’s heart ache as guilt swirled in his stomach with the knowledge that he’d caused that look. He’d caused those usually bright blue eyes to dim.

“I’m just saying, I think you should stay.”

“Why?”

Sonny sighed, a move that seemed to run through his whole body. “Because I love you. Is that not enough?”

Peter swallowed against the lump rising in his throat as he grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“We can work on this,” Sonny pleaded as Peter moved around him, heading for the front door. “It’s just a minor—“

“It’s not.” He was proud his voice didn’t crack, and straightened his back a little further. “It will never be minor, and you know it.”

Sonny nodded, tears filling his eyes, and Peter had to look away.

“Okay,” Sonny whispered shakily. “Okay.”

He left before he could change his mind, closing the door softly behind him.


	16. Peter getting sappy with Sonny about not being compared to his father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178029845832/peter-getting-sappy-with-sonny-about-not-being

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emotional hurt/comfort

It had been a long case; hours upon hours of prep, of sleepless nights, of feeling the entire case was doomed. Weeks of trial and testimony and never quite knowing which way the jury would swing. But he had won. He’d fought hard, and he’d come out on top.

And all anyone seemed to be able to do was clap him on the back and say, “your father would be proud,” or “you really are your father’s son,” or, the worst, “just like your old man.”

By the time all congratulations, celebratory drinks and praise were out of the way, Peter didn’t feel like he’d won at all. He could feel the darkness of his father’s shadow creeping in, all that guilt and age-old resentment swirling in his stomach, and he suddenly felt exhausted.

“Congratulations, Counselor,” came a familiar Staten Island accent, followed by a hand gripping his shoulder, and he turned to look at Sonny, eyes bright, grin wide.

“Thanks,” he muttered, dredging up a smile.

“I mean it,” Sonny continued, taking a seat next to Peter at the bar. “You should be proud of yourself.”

Peter huffed a laugh, giving Sonny a sideways glance before taking a sip from his drink.

“I know I missed most of it, but from what I saw…” Sonny whistled on the out breath, and Peter feels goosebumps rise on his skin. “You wiped the floor with Buchanan, that’s for sure.”

Peter was waiting for the comparison to his father, could feel himself tense in anticipation, brain conjuring up an answer that would sound genuine, but it never came. Sonny just kept talking, about how much he’d enjoyed being able to help, about how much he admired Peter, how much he loved watching him in court, and Peter felt a familiar warmth settle in the pit of his stomach.

“You’re just…yeah, wow, sorry. I got carried away there.” Sonny huffed out a small laugh, blush dusting his cheeks, and Peter suddenly felt he could cry.

He opened his mouth to speak, to tell Sonny it was fine, but the words couldn’t seem to make their way past the lump in his throat.

“Hey,” Sonny said softly, tilting his head in concern. “S’matter?”

Peter laughed wetly, shaking his head, but Sonny leaned in, so close Peter could smell the product in his hair, and slung an arm around his shoulder.

“You know you did good, right?” Sonny asked, voice gentle, and Peter felt his breath ghosting across his cheek.

“Yeah,” Peter managed. “Yeah, just like my father.”

Peter cringed at the bitterness in his own voice, felt fresh guilt swooping low in his stomach, but Sonny just stayed where he was, holding Peter a little tighter.

“Sure,” Sonny shrugged. “But you’re more than that. Your accomplishments are yours, not his. You—“

Peter cut him off with a kiss, quick and chaste and entirely unexpected. Sonny looked shocked for a moment before he grinned, leaning in to kiss him again.

When they broke apart, Sonny nudged him playfully. “Been holding onto that for a while?”

Peter felt his face grow hot, and he huffed a laugh, half turning his face away. “Shut up.”

“I’m not complaining.”

Peter sighed, taking a sip of his drink, still unable to make eye contact despite the way Sonny was hanging off him now, face unbearably close. “You’re the only one to not make the comparison. I know it’s stupid, but—“

“It’s not,” Sonny said with a sincerity that caused Peter’s chest to tighten. “You wanna be your own person. I get that. I share my dad’s name, I know a little about living in your father’s shadow.”

Peter turned to look at him again, finally, something like relief setting in. In lieu of a response, he pressed his lips to Sonny’s once more, melting into the feeling completely.


	17. “Can I have this dance.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178070071937/can-i-have-this-dance-starisi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> light angst, fluff

There was something bitter-sweet about slowly watching all the people you cared about pair off, fall in love and get married. Sonny was happy for his friends. Really, he was. But a part of it just left him feeling lonely and hollow, despite the general cheer around him.

He was sure he hadn’t always felt this way. He was sure throughout his 20s and even his early 30s he’d been overjoyed by weddings, by seeing his friends and family so happy, so loved. He was always known as the life of the party, dancing up a storm, drinking like there was no tomorrow, the smile never leaving his face.

He wondered, as he stared at the almost-empty beer bottle in his hand, if the job had tainted some of it. If seeing people who were supposed to love each other only hurt each other had taken the shine off the whole romance thing. He was sure, deep down inside, underneath years of close calls, of dead bodies, of helpless children and lovers who returned to their abusers, the hopeless romantic he’d once been was still there. He just couldn’t seem to find him under all the chaos.

He cast his eyes across the dance floor where Declan was swaying with a heavily pregnant Amanda, laughter in their eyes. Where Liv and Trevor Langan stood laughing, twirling Noah between them like it was the most natural thing in the world. Where Fin and Rafael sat, relaxed and smiling, drinks in hand. He felt separate from it all. Distant.

He sighed, having made up his mind about leaving, when a shadow fell over him. The music changed at that exact moment, to something slower, more gentle, and the lighting dimmed with it.

Sonny glanced up, surprised to find Peter Stone standing in front of him, nervous smile on his face. He felt his stomach flutter in anticipation and sat forward instinctively.

“Can I have this dance?” Peter extended his hand, and Sonny took it instantly, rising to his feet without thinking.

“Absolutely,” he breathed out.

There it was. The hopeless romantic in him lived on, ignited by possibility, by hope, by something he’d barely dared to imagine, let alone act upon.

But as Peter pulled him in close, swaying in time with the music, Sonny had to admit that it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“You okay?” Peter asked quietly, so close Sonny could feel his breath ghost across his ear.

“I am now,” he answered honestly.


	18. “I was in the neighborhood”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178092734987/i-was-in-the-neighborhood-starisi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emotional hurt/comfort, grief

Peter watched as Sonny blinked at him, likely in surprise. Peter was surprised too. He glanced around, rubbing he back of his neck as anxiety crawled its way up his throat, threatening to suffocate him as his heart rate rose. But he swallowed down on it, swallowed down on his uncertainty, and offered Sonny a smile.

“Peter? What are you doing here?”

His first name from Sonny’s lips never failed to warm something in him, making him feel a little more grounded than he had previously. He took a slow, deliberate breath, leaning into the feeling it provided.

The true answer was on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t know why he was here. He didn’t remember making the decision to come here, let alone making the trek through the night. But the honest answer made it harder to breathe, so he shrugged a little, hoping his smile sold the story.

“I was in the neighborhood.” His voice wavered against his will, and with it came the threat of everything he’d so carefully sewn together unravelling, and his eyes stung with tears.

He swallowed thickly, desperate to ease the uneasy thump of his heart, the uncertainty. He wondered if he was slowly going crazy. Surely the fact that he was here and not at home in bed was proof of that. It ran in the family, after all.

He had to swallow again as the bitter tang of bile hit the back of his tongue, the sound of Pamela calling for him ringing in his ears.

Sonny was watching him, head tilted to the side, eyes clouded with both sleep and concern, and Peter felt small. Smaller than he possibly ever had before.

He took a deep breath as Sonny stepped aside to let him in, holding it as he walked through the door. He’d hoped it would invoke calm like it did in the courtroom, like it had in the face of his father, or before he stepped through the doors of Bay View, but it had no such effect. Instead, he felt something snap inside of him, thrum throughout his entire body in a way he couldn’t contain.

“Peter?” Sonny asked quietly, and a hand came to rest on Peter’s back. He swallowed again, turning towards Sonny, but it felt as though he were moving through molasses, slow and lethargic all of a sudden. “Woah, Pete, hey. What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

Peter shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Sonny sighed, wrapping an arm around his waist as he lead him to the lounge.

Guilt twisted in Peter’s stomach at the tired way Sonny rubbed his eyes as they sat. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“I’m glad you did,” Sonny said quietly, then, after a beat, added, “Please talk to me.”

“I don’t know,” Peter admitted, feeling fear bubble to the surface having said the words out loud.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t…I can’t…I was just here.” He could feel the words trapping in his throat, sticking to the lump that was growing bigger by the second.

He lifted his hand to run it through his hair, but stopped short when he noticed it shaking. He frowned, watching his hand tremble before him, and he realized that was the thrumming. His whole body was trembling. He let his hand fall to his lap, twisting his fingers together.

Sonny covered his hands with one of his own, slinging his other arm over Peter’s shoulders. “It’s okay.”

Peter shook his head, a sense of urgency filling him up. “It’s not,” he whispered, horrified by how child-like he sounded. “I don’t…I’m—“ he cut off with a heaving sob, and in an instant Sonny was drawing him in, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he came undone.

It took a moment to swallow his tears, to control his breathing enough to talk. But then, there were no words anyway. He had no explanation, and every time he tried to come up with one, that indescribable fear reared its ugly head once more.

“Come on,” Sonny said gently. “Bed.”

Peter let Sonny guide him to the bedroom, let him draw him close under the covers. He allowed himself that comfort, tried to burrow deep into the feeling, away from everything else.

“I miss her,” he whispered, the words unexpected but undeniable in their truth. “It’s been months, and I still—“

“I know,” Sonny murmured, pressing a kiss into Peter’s hair. “I know.”


	19. "Hang on, you’re going to be okay, keep breathing."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178179472567/hang-on-youre-going-to-be-okay-keep-breathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst, panic attack

There was a piercing ringing drowning everything else out. Sonny was sure he could hear panicked voices, but it sounded so very far away. His chest felt tight. Unbearably so. He blinked as the world seemed to slip out of focus, but the light seemed too bright, and he squinted, head aching.

He tried to suck a deep breath in, but nothing came. He tried again, a sense of urgency growing, but to no avail. He opened his mouth to speak, to call for help, but his tongue was a dead weight in his mouth.

His heart thudded, loud enough that he could hear it over the ringing. A weight set on his shoulder, causing him to flinch, skin searing even through the layers of clothing he was wearing. Clothing that felt too tight. He grabbed at his tie, willing his fingers to cooperate. He just needed air.

Then Peter’s face swam into vision, shrouded in light. Instinctively, Sonny reached for him, but his limbs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. A desperate sob wrenched its way from his throat, fear threatening to swallow him whole.

“It’s me, Sonny.” Peter’s voice sounded distant, like Sonny was under water and Peter was calling to him from the surface.

His face met with something warm, and instantly arms were around him, drawing him close, and everything rushed into focus. It was too much all at once, and he clung desperately to Peter, body heaving as he sucked in breath after breath, trying desperately to ease the burning in his chest.

“Hang on,” Peter said, this time loud and bright and clear in Sonny’s ear, and he had to bite back a sob. “You’re going to be okay. Keep breathing.”

Sonny shook his head, panic rising in him again as Peter moved to leave. “Don’t go,” he croaked.

“I’m right here,” Peter assured, taking hold of his hand to give it a squeeze. “Just breathe, Sonny. Just breathe.”

He watched as Peter smiled at him, eyes full of worry, and slowly sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to hold it, before letting it go in a rush to suck in another.

“Easy,” Peter murmured, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. “I’ve got you.”


	20. "Another nightmare?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178229175282/another-nightmare-starisi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst, nightmares

Peter woke to the feel of the bed dipping, jostling his body, and he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he rolled over to look at Sonny.

“Go back to sleep,” Sonny whispered, resting his hand on Peter’s arm for a moment before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Another nightmare?” Peter asked, voice scratchy with sleep.

He could see the tension in Sonny’s shoulders at the question, the way he quivered just a little, muscles in his back and arms working, and his heart clenched painfully, his inability to do anything made glaringly obvious once again.

“Lie back down,” he whispered, reaching out to let his fingers ghost across Sonny’s back.

Sonny shook his head, hands fisting the sheets so tight Peter could picture how white his knuckles were, even though he couldn’t actually see them in the dark.

“Please.” He cursed himself when his voice shook on the single word, his desperation bleeding through. He wanted nothing more than to be able to take the nightmares away, to let Sonny sleep peacefully without being haunted by dead-eyed children and lifeless women, the ones he couldn’t save.

He sat up, sliding across the bed so he could sit behind Sonny, legs either side of him, prying his hands gently from the sheets before wrapping both of their arms around Sonny’s body, holding him tight.

“I wish I could help you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Sonny’s shoulder before resting his chin there.

“Sorry,” Sonny croaked out, and for a moment Peter thought he was going to pull away, but instead, he leaned into the touch, resting back against Peter, letting his head fall back against his shoulder.

“Don’t be.” He pressed a kiss to Sonny’s cheek, eliciting a weak smile. “You never have to apologize for what you feel.”

“I do when it hurts you.”

Peter shook his head. “It only hurts me because I hate to see you struggling. But I’m glad you trust me enough to let me see.”

Sonny laughed, dry and humorless, and Peter’s chest tightened a little at the sound.

“Honest,” he assured, pressing another kiss to Sonny’s cheek for good measure.

They were silent for a while, sitting on the edge of the bed, Peter lightly drifting off, head propped on Sonny’s shoulder, before Sonny whispered. “Hold me.”

Peter breathed out a laugh, eyes still closed. “I am holding you.”

Sonny shook his head, pulling out of Peter’s arms, causing him to wake up properly, open his eyes.

“In bed. Hold me. Please.”

The desperate tone in Sonny’s voice wiped the smile from Peter’s face and he nodded, moving back to his side of the bed. The moment Sonny laid down beside him he drew him close, pulled Sonny flush against his chest, pressing a kiss into his hair.

Just as sleep was about to take him once more, Sonny whispered, “Thank you.”


	21. “Can I hold your hand?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178328693937/can-i-hold-your-hand-starisi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst, canon-typical depictions of violence/injury

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The sound didn’t even drive Sonny mad anymore. It was just background noise, the new soundtrack to his life.

At first, each drip had steadily driven him to insanity before he’d snapped, ranting about God knows what while Peter sat and listened, never once interjecting or telling Sonny to calm down.

After that, the steady drip had reminded him of how thirsty he was, and that somewhere there was water that he couldn’t reach.

Now, it was just another thing on the growing list of things he’s grown numb to.

He had no sense of how much time had passed. Their watches and phones had been taken and the windows had been blacked out, and they had been left for dead.

Death. He knew that’s what was coming, knew there was likely no way out of this. He and Peter had just been dragged off the street, seemingly at random, drugged before instincts could even kick in, and woke up here. They hadn’t eaten, hadn’t had anything to drink, and their bodies had stopped reminding them of that fact.

He heard Peter grunt in pain beside him, and, not for the first time, was reminded that Peter would likely die first. The cut in his side had bled a lot, and though the bleeding had stopped, though Peter was still mostly conscious, still breathing, Sonny knew it was only a matter of time. He knew, given their current state, he could likely survive this longer than Peter. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Peter?” He whispered, voice scratchy from lack of use.

“Yeah?”

“Can I hold your hand?” His voice rose in pitch along with the lump in his throat, and unexpected tears stung his eyes.

“Of course.”

Sonny could see Peter’s hand reach for him through the dark, and Sonny reached back, gripping with far more force than necessary as a sob tore its way from his throat.

“Hey,” Peter soothed, giving his hand a squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Sonny didn’t have it in him to protest. He didn’t want to argue with Peter. His head was pounding, spinning, and his empty stomach still somehow managed to churn. He was surprised he had any tears to cry, but they fell, slipping down his face as he pulled as far as he could against his restraints in an attempt to close the distance between them.


	22. "Can you shut up for five minutes, please???"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178378201582/starisi-can-you-shut-up-for-five-minutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> light angst, emotional hurt/comfort

Sonny was talking, something about a wedding and his Great Aunt Sofia, but it had become white noise to Peter, an irritating hum drilling into his brain, and he could feel his frustration growing, building in his chest and forcing its way up his throat, suffocating him as his heart rate rose. **  
**

“Can you shut up for five minutes?” He shouted, then, as an afterthought, added a heated, “Please.”

Sonny blinked at him in shock, but surprisingly said nothing. He sat very still for a moment before getting up and going to the bedroom without a word.

The longer Sonny was out of the room, the more Peter’s guilt grew, forcing out all previous frustration. He hadn’t meant to snap, he knew it wasn’t Sonny’s fault, knew he was just excited. And Peter normally didn’t mind. Usually, he was happy to listen, enjoyed being drawn in by Sonny’s enthusiasm. He loved the way Sonny’s face lit up when he told stories, eyes sparkling like sapphires, grin lighting up his whole face.

For the life of him, he couldn’t even work out why it had bothered him tonight. He was tired, and his caseload was huge, but that wasn’t new. There just seemed to be a pressure building behind his eyes all day, making everything else harder to deal with. But he knew that was no excuse.

After a deep, calming breath, he got up and made his way to the bedroom, knocking lightly before entering.

Sonny was sitting on his bed reading, not even bothering to look up as Peter entered.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, making his way around the bed to sit by Sonny’s feet.

“Don’t be,” Sonny replied lightly, flashing Peter a tight smile before returning to his book.

Peter sighed, squeezing Sonny’s foot gently. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s been a long day, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

“Pete, it’s fine,” Sonny said, tone a little clipped, not looking up.

“Except it’s clearly not,” he said softly. “If you want me to go home, I will. But—“ he broke off, an unexpected lump rising in his throat.

“It’s okay,” Sonny said with a sigh, placing his book to the side. “I get it. I’m too much sometimes. It’s fine.”

“No,” Peter insisted, moving up the bed. “No, don’t do that. “You’re not too much. I love your enthusiasm.” He sighed, taking hold of Sonny’s hand. “I don’t know what that was. I’m sorry.”

Peter blinked furiously as tears stung his eyes, lowering his head, and Sonny linked their fingers, squeezing tight. “Hey. You okay?”

“Just a rough day,” he said, voice tight.

“Talk to me.” Sonny’s voice was soft as he coaxed, all hurt gone in an instant.

“I’m mostly upset that I upset you,” Peter huffed out a laugh, giving Sonny a small smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Sonny pulled him in close, pressing a warm, loving kiss to his lips, and everything else seemed to melt away as he got lost in the sensation.


	23. ‘Soulmates AU’ + ‘Admission during a fight'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178479080642/soulmates-au-and-admission-during-a-fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst

Sonny breathed out a slow, steady breath before knocking on Peter’s office door, Carmen having long gone. He knew Peter would be here and not at home. Sonny knew him too well by now. After every hard case, after every difficult loss, Peter would hide himself away and drown his sorrows.

Sonny couldn’t blame him, not really. He only wished Peter would come to him, instead.

He let himself in after a beat, despite the lack of answer on the other side, and sure enough, Peter was sat on his lounge, drink in hand, staring unseeing into its contents.

“Hey,” he said softly, closing the door behind him, but Peter didn’t even acknowledge his presence. “I, erm…You did the best you could, we all know that.”

A heavy silence hung between them before Peter finally looked up, eyes tired, a little red-rimmed and glassy, but completely dry. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Just wanted to make sure you heard it from someone,” Sonny said with a gentle smile before making his way around the coffee table to sit down.

“Why do you do this?” Peter asked suddenly, and Sonny frowned.

“Do what?”

“This. Come here, check in on me. Why?”

There was something accusatory Peter’s tone, and Sonny tried to swallow down on his need to be defensive.

“Because I care ‘bout ya,” he said lightly, patting Peter on the back. “And ‘cause I wish you felt you could come to me.”

Peter sighed, shaking his head, before downing the contents of his glass. “You shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what?”

“I’m a waste of your time,” Peter muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re an easy lay, that’s it. We’re both wasting our time.”

Sonny felt a flare of anger, bright and hot and blinding. “Are you serious?”

Peter just gave him a tired look, a look that made Sonny’s stomach churn and his chest ache. He stood up, prepared to leave, before he changed his mind, turning back around, finger aimed at Peter.

“I never, ever asked for anything from you.”

“Of course you did.” Peter’s voice wavered, but his expression didn’t. “Your very existence demands attention. Your puppy dog eyes, your bright smiles, demand open affection. I can’t do that.”

“When did I ever ask you to?” Sonny was aware he was shouting now, arms spread wide.

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

Sonny scoffed, trying desperately to hold onto his anger, but he felt tears cloud his eyes as some of his fight left him.

“As a friend,” he whispered, voice trembling. “As whatever you need me to be.”

Peter rolled his eyes before pouring himself another drink, and Sonny’s heart broke a little.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sonny whispered, wiping furiously at the tears that dared to slip down his cheeks.

“Just leave.”

“No. No, not until you tell me what the fuck—“

“I can’t!” Peter shouted, slamming his glass down on the table as he stood. “I love you, okay, is that what you want to hear? I love you, and it terrifies me.”

Sonny opened his mouth to respond, but the world seemed to spin for a moment, the taste of something metallic hitting the back of his tongue as is vision whited out, blinding in its intensity. There was a buzzing in his head, like a drilling in the base of his skull, growing louder and louder until finally there was just silence and a faint ringing in his ears.

He panted for breath as, slowly, the world came back into focus. He blinked, confused for a moment before realizing he had sunk to the floor. He closed his eyes again, focussing on his breathing, slow and steady.

“Sonny?” Peter asked quietly, and Sonny just grunted in response. “You okay?”

Sonny nodded, swallowing before opening his eyes again. Peter was standing over him, glass of water in hand, and Sonny forced himself to sit up before taking the glass from Peter’s hands.

He knew what this was, had been waiting for this moment his whole life, though he hadn’t expected it to be quite so jarring. But he didn’t want to be the first one to say it out loud. The truth was, he loved Peter too, had for a painfully long time. He just never thought Peter would reciprocate, let alone thought that they could be—

“Soulmates,” Peter whispered, voice quivering as he sat down, and Sonny turned to look at him.

Peter was smiling, kind of sad, kind of nervous, and Sonny couldn’t understand it. He knew a soulbond could only happen from an honest love declaration, where both parties felt the same, but he saw no love in Peter’s eyes.

“What are you afraid of?” He whispered, reaching out to link his fingers with Peter’s.

Peter sighed, closing his eyes, letting his head fall forward. “Losing you.”


	24. “Kiss me again.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178570370832/kiss-me-again-starisi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff

It had been unexpected, Sonny’s lips crashing against his own. It had felt as though time moved both too slow and too fast at the same time. Sonny had been impossibly close, gravitating towards him as per usual, and Peter hadn’t thought anything of it. He just smiled, let Sonny’s cologne wash over him, let his smile chase away the demons inside his head.

It felt like it was over before it had even begun, and Peter’s brain hadn’t even had a chance to catch up before Sonny had grabbed his coat and high-tailed it out of there. It took a moment to collect himself, a moment to make sure it had really happened, that he hadn’t simply had one too many and imagined the whole thing.

But the moment his brain caught up, his feet couldn’t move fast enough. He left his wallet behind, an assurance that he would be back to close his tab, before he rushed outside, eyes scanning the busy sidewalk for Sonny.

He could feel his chest heaving as he searched faces, backs of heads, coat colors, and just as he was about to give up, just as he was about to accept defeat, he spotted Sonny halfway down the street, hunched over, hands in his pockets as he walked.

“Sonny!” He shouted, running to catch up, nearly knocking a young couple over in the process.

Sonny didn’t stop, though. He didn’t even flinch, just kept walking, quickening his pace.

“Sonny,” Peter breathed out, reaching out to grab him by the arm.

Sonny stopped, spinning around, features creased, eyes wide. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

Peter blinked, feeling himself deflate in an instant, an odd sense of nausea born of loneliness, of a crushed hope, settling deep in the pit of his stomach.

“It was…you’re going through this…this horrible thing, and I know you’re struggling, even though you won’t really say, and I just, I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry. But you don’t have to worry, it won’t happen again…”

Peter stopped paying attention to Sonny’s words as relief and hope and unexpected joy washed over him in waves.

“Kiss me again,” he said in a rush, cutting off Sonny’s rambling.

Sonny stopped talking, jaw going slack as he stared at Peter for what felt like an eternity.

“What?” He eventually asked, and Peter grinned, stepping forward, closing the distance.

“Kiss me again.”

Sonny hesitated for a moment before surging forward, cupping the back of Peter’s head fiercely as their lips met, this time far softer, far hungrier, far more born from intent than opportunity, and Peter felt on top of the world.


	25. “You can ask me as much as you want, I’ll say I love you each time.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178584298327/you-can-ask-me-as-much-as-you-want-ill-say-i

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emotional hurt/comfort

It was always the quiet moments that felt the most intimate. When he was kissing Sonny, touching every piece of bare skin, taking every inch of him until he was an incoherent mess, it was easy. But in these quiet moments, morning sunlight filtering through the gaps in the curtains, Sonny’s fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin, Peter felt exposed and vulnerable, and doubt crept in little by little until it consumed him, constricting his chest, reminding him over and over how they ended up here, how Peter came to be in Sonny’s bed that very first time and never quite seemed to leave.

He tried to focus on the feel of Sonny’s fingertips and the gooseflesh they left behind, tried to get lost in the meaningless movements, the pleasant tingle, but his demons rose like bile from his stomach, nauseating as they swirled in his chest, causing his heart to beat double time for just a moment before the swell subsided, only to be repeated moments later.

“Why are you with me?”

He hadn’t even known he’d said the words out loud until Sonny’s movements paused, and he shifted beside Peter before saying, “Because I love you.”

Peter sighed, closing his eyes, trying to hold onto those words, to believe them. It wasn’t that he thought Sonny would intentionally lie to him, it was simply that he couldn’t understand how. He couldn’t understand how someone like Sonny could love someone like him. He was certain it had to be pity combined with Sonny’s innate need to help people. He was certain it couldn’t be love. How could it be?

“You can ask me as much as you want,” Sonny whispered, hovering over Peter, face close enough for his breath to ghost across his skin. “I’ll say I love you each time.”

The swell of emotion Peter felt was sudden and unexpected, and burst forth in the form of a half-groan, half-sob before he could get a hold on it. The swell rose within him again, suffocating, as tears pressed at his eyelids, threatening to fall the moment he opened them.

“Hey,” Sonny whispered, protective arm wrapping around Peter’s middle, tugging him closer. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

All Peter could do was shake his head in response, too afraid to open his mouth, unsure of what might come out if he did.

“Hey,” Sonny whispered again, this time more urgently as he pressed a kiss to the side of Peter’s head, right by his ear. “Look at me.”

Peter shook his head again, and Sonny’s hands came to rest on his face, thumb brushing along his cheekbones, under his eyes, relaxing, coaxing, until Peter couldn’t stand it anymore. He looked up at Sonny, still hovering above him, looking so concerned and so sad that Peter felt a pang in his chest. He blinked against the wetness in his eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

“What is there to love?” He croaked out, embarrassed that, once again, Sonny was seeing him at his weakest, his most vulnerable.

Sonny’s expression softened, eyes unbearably sad, as though he’d been drawn in by Peter’s breakdown, succumbed to it instead of fighting. He laid beside Peter again, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as he pulled him as close as possible. Against Sonny’s warm, solid frame, Peter realized he was trembling, and took a deep breath, trying to still the movement.

“I can’t put into words how much I love you,” Sonny said, voice heavy with emotion. “I loved you long before that night, long before I felt comfortable giving in to this. I love every little thing about you, Peter. I don’t know how to make you believe me, but—“

“I do.” Peter rubbed at his eyes before turning to face Sonny. “I do believe you. I just don’t understand you.”

Sonny smiled sadly, reaching up to brush a stray tear from Peter’s cheek before running his fingers into Peter’s hair, touch always soothing. “You don’t have to understand. Just believe.”


	26. “It’s three in the morning.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/178724681217/starisi-its-three-in-the-morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst

Sonny groaned as the vibrations of his phone slowly dragged him from his sleep, drilling into his brain, persistent, demanding. When the sound stopped he let out a relieved sigh, only to groan seconds later when the vibrating started up again.

Blindly, he reached for his phone, swiping to answer as he brought it to his ear, not even bothering to look at the screen before answering, “Carisi.”

Sonny could hear muffled sounds on the other end, the general hum of distant, rowdy voices and clinking glass that generally indicated a bar, but no one actually spoke. After a moment he heard a somewhat ragged breath crackle through the phone, and his heart clenched at the sound, knowing instinctively who was on the other end even as he checked the caller ID for confirmation.

“Peter?”

“Yeah,” Peter said under his breath.

“It’s three in the morning.”

“Oh.” A pause, some shuffling, another shaky breath. “I…don’t worry.”

“No. Hey.” Sonny sat up at the waver in Peter’s voice, flicking his bedside lamp on. “What’s up?”

“You, erm, you said…that I could call any time?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Sonny swallowed the swell of unease building inside of him before huffing out a laugh. “I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on it.”

“Right,” Peter muttered, and there was another rustle before a sharp intake of breath. “Sorry. I shouldn’t—“

“No. No, I’m glad you did,” Sonny soothed, stomach flipping at Peter’s uncertainty. “What do you need?”

Peter was silent for a moment, and Sonny clung to his phone, breath coming just a little too fast. He felt a pang in his chest when Peter sniffed distantly on the other end before letting out a deep, shaky breath.

“I don’t know—“ Peter broke off with a choked sob, and Sonny sat, heart aching, as he listened to Peter try and get his breathing under control on the other end. “I need- I need- fuck.” Another shaky breath. “I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sonny said in a rush. “Do you want me to come get you?”

A pause. “Yeah. Yes. Please.”

“Okay. Where are you?”

Peter rattled off the name of a bar Sonny blessedly knew the location of, and just as he was about to hang up, Peter said, voice strangled, “Don’t hang up.”

Sonny took a moment to take a steadying breath, forcing away the lump forming in his throat. “Yeah, of course, whatever you need.”


	27. “You don’t have to go to all this trouble, you know”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas, fluff, light angst  
> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/181022979137/hello-if-youre-taking-requests-could-you-do-a

Peter breathed out a gentle sigh, taking a moment to relish the warmth of their apartment combined with the aromas of cooking, scents that Peter couldn’t place and yet somehow smelled like home, before shrugging his snow-dusted coat off and hanging it on the rack.

It was nice—far more than nice, if he were being honest—to have someone to come home to on Christmas, of all days. The ache in his chest was still there, the gap left by Pamela, and even his father, more obvious at this time of year than any other. But this year was different. This year, he had Sonny.

“Come taste this,” Sonny called from the kitchen, and Peter couldn’t stop his lips from quirking up.

“Hey,” he breathed out as he stepped up behind Sonny at the stove, placing his hands on Sonny’s hips.

“They work you too hard?” Sonny asked with a grin, turning around to face Peter, spoon raised.

“Not as hard as your squad. How did you manage the day off when you’re the only one without kids?” he teased softly before tasting the gravy offered to him, soft groan of appreciation slipping past his lips. “That tastes amazing. As always.”

Sonny rolled his eyes fondly, turning back to the stove. “I got the day off because I worked the last five Christmases. And because this one’s special.”

Peter sighed, taking a step back despite the warmth spreading through his chest at effort Sonny was going to, seemingly just for him.

“You don’t have to go to all this trouble, you know,” he said quietly, taking in the range of food, all at various stages of cooking and preparation.

“I know,” Sonny shrugged, glancing back at Peter for a moment before turning back to the stove. “But don’t go thinking this is all for you.”

Peter frowned, question on the tip of his tongue, but then, as though on cue, there was a knock at the door.

“Can you get that?” Sonny asked, and despite being unable to see his face, Peter could hear the smirk in his voice, the smugness, and it caused Peter’s heart to flutter in anticipation all the way to the front door.

“Merry Christmas!”

The chorus came before Peter had even fully opened the door, and for a moment he felt winded, confusion, surprise, and something warmer all bubbling up inside him at the sight of familiar faces beaming at him.

“You gonna let us in?” Amanda asked with a grin, shifting Beau on her hip.

In lieu of a response, Peter stepped aside, which earned him a rushed kiss on the cheek as Jesse ran ahead, dragging Amanda behind her. Then came Liv, offering a warm smile and an even warmer hug, and a present thrust into his hands by Noah. Lastly, Fin clapped him on the shoulder before wiggling a bottle of Rum in front of his face.

“For later,” Fin said with a sly wink.

For a moment, all Peter could do was watch as his colleagues, his friends, all the people who were closest to him, made themselves at home in his apartment.

“You okay?” Sonny asked softly, and when Peter turned to look at him, his brow was crinkled with concern, lips pulled downwards, uncertain in a way he seldom was.

“Yeah,” Peter whispered before clearing his throat, chest tightening at the unexpected swell of emotion. “Just…surprised.”

“What?” Sonny relaxed into a smile, pulling Peter towards him. “This is your family now. It might not be the same, but—“

Peter cut him off with a kiss, searing and somewhat urgent, as he gripped Sonny tight.

“It’s perfect,” Peter murmured, lips still close enough to brush Sonny’s. “Thank you.”


	28. "No no–it’s alright, come here.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
> http://sofuckingchuffed.tumblr.com/post/180695840307/no-noits-alright-come-here-and-starisi-please

Sonny didn’t wake easily. It came from years of stealing moments of sleep in the bunks between shifts, from knowing he needed the full four hours he’d get between studying and work the next morning. He woke to his alarm, blaring so loud it likely woke the neighbours too, and nothing more.

Which was why it took a moment for Sonny to understand why he was slowly blinking awake at four in the morning, two hours before his alarm. He groaned, pressing his face into the pillow again, when he heard it - a knock at the door. A thump would have been a more accurate description.

With another groan, he pushed himself up off is bed, pulling a discarded t shirt over his head as he stumbled through his dark apartment largely on muscle memory, opening the door before he could even think to check the peephole.

He squinted for a moment against the harsh light of the hall, hugging one arm around his middle as he braced himself against the door frame with the other. And then Peter came into focus, eyes bleary and red-rimmed, face pale except for his cheeks, which were tinged red. He was still wearing his tie, but it was so loose he might as well have taken it off completely, and with three buttons undone and his shirt half untucked, he looked an absolute mess, and Sonny’s stomach clenched, worry rising from his stomach to his chest, forcing him to stand a little straighter.

“Sorry,” Peter muttered, hanging his head as he took an unsteady step back. “I didn’t…I didn’t know where else to go.”

“No, no, it’s…it’s alright.”

Peter swayed a little, and when he lifted his gaze again, his eyes were wet, expression more sad and more scared than Sonny had ever seen it.

“Come here,” Sonny said softly, extending his hand towards Peter, and for a moment Peter just stared at it, swallowing hard, but when Sonny wiggled his fingers, Peter reached forward and took hold of his hand, allowing Sonny to drag him inside.

Before the door had even closed behind them, Sonny had Peter pulled close against his chest, hand running up and down his back as Peter pressed his face into Sonny’s neck.

“Come to bed,” Sonny whispered.

Peter shook his head in response, straightening up. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“You’re here now,” Sonny said softly, “and I have to get up for work in less than two hours. So come to bed and get some sleep.”

Peter shook his head again, taking a minute step back, a shuddering gasp of a breath breaking from his chest.

“You deserve…so much better than this.”

“Yeah,” Sonny sighed, taking a step towards Peter again. “I do. But so do you.”

“Why are you so…kind? So full of love, and compassion. How?”

Sonny breathed out slowly, extending his hand to take hold of Peter’s loosely.

“Because I love you,” he said simply, and Peter’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t move. “But you’re not so different from me.”

Sonny took another step towards Peter, placing a hand over his chest, right over his heart, fingers splayed. He searched Peter’s eyes, still wide, like he didn’t know if to flee or stay.

“I fell in love with you because of your heart, and your compassion, and your gentleness, and your kindness. Even when I wasn’t ready to love you, it was there, battling with what I thought I knew, what I thought I wanted. So come to bed.”

Peter nodded, letting Sonny lead him to the bedroom. He didn’t speak as Sonny helped undress him, didn’t say a word as Sonny pulled him into bed, pulled him flush against his chest.

Then, just as Sonny was on the edge of sleep, Peter whispered, “I’m so scared I’ll never be those things you fell in love with again.”

Sonny pressed a lazy, half-asleep kiss to the side of Peter’s head, pulling him impossibly closer with a sigh.

“You never stopped,” Sonny murmured, pressing his face into Peter’s neck. “You’ll find yourself again.”


End file.
